Date: Tue, 24 Jan 2012 05:24:21 +1300
From: Robert Jamieson
Subject: Boys Becoming Men Chapter 2
DISCLAIMER: Hi there, this is my first attempt at a YA fiction story
obviously targeted at a gay audience. As it is a work of fiction, any
resemblance to any real life people or events is purely coincidental. It
is important to note that this story will mainly and eventually be based in
a high school setting, and the first few chapters are just part of the
character building process that occurs outside the eventually dominant high
school setting.
Also, this story will have strong gay themes as well as gay sex, so if you
are offended by such material, or if such material is illegal in your
country, or if you are underage, please close this window now.
Otherwise,
ENJOY!
Chapter 2
Liam lay in the darkness for a few minutes in silence gathering his
thoughts. He needed a reprieve from Paul's proximity to figure things out,
specifically why he seemed to react in such a... for lack of a better word,
"contrary" manner when he was in Paul's arms. He acknowledged the fact
that he bumped his head pretty hard on his steering wheel, and that he lost
a bit of blood. There was also a chance that he might have suffered a
concussion. But was that enough to justify how his body had responded?
Shit, he thought, I've just acknowledged that my body actually responded to
Paul.
His heart was still beating hard in his chest from earlier when Paul had
reached over to remove his clothes. He'd been in changing rooms many a
time, so he wasn't exactly shy. And come to think of it, he didn't have
anything to be shy about -- he was pretty built too, maybe not as much as
Paul, but he was no pushover either. So why did his heart start to race
when Paul tried to tug at his wet t-shirt?
Then he reasoned with himself, it's not like guys in the changing rooms
reach over to undress each other, no sir they didn't. So that was
definitely why he reacted like that. Even if Paul meant well.
But the back of his mind thought different. It nagged and screamed at him
that it was most likely because the idea of being semi-naked in his room
with a semi-naked Paul turned him on -- no, you will NOT go there, he
firmly ordered himself. He wasn't going to explore those nagging thoughts.
And it also bothered him that he didn't really know Paul at all, and other
than his name, he was still very much a stranger.
Then he realized, here he was over-thinking seemingly minuscule occurrences
while Paul was a few doors over oblivious to his internal conflicts. He
had probably not given it another thought.
Chill out, he told himself. Act cool. Plus this isn't the time to be
wasting thinking about how he reacted earlier. Actually, there will never
be a time to ever think about it again. It was really nothing, so you
shouldn't really dwell on it, he decisively told himself.
So concentrated was he on his train of thought, he momentarily forgot how
wet he was, or the fact that he was in bed with his soaked clothes.
Grabbing the torch on his bedside table, he switched it on, cleared his
throat and called out to Paul.
"Hey man, you okay?" His voice sounded unsteady, like he had run a few
miles.
A muffled reply came from further down the hallway, "I'm good, you're
really prepared -- there's a torch and packs of candles in here." He then
heard the shower being turned on. Good. I've got a bit more time to
myself, he thought.
He reached over and placed the torch back onto his bedside table facing it
directly up towards the ceiling, dispersing the light more evenly in his
room albeit in a weak glow. Slowly getting up, he changed his wet bed
sheets before he stripped out of his wet clothes.
He caught sight of himself in the mirror in all his nakedness. He was five
feet, eleven inches tall, which was not only average for a guy, but way
below Paul's height which he estimated to be at least six feet, four
inches. Unlike Paul who, aside from a minor trail of hair that was present
on his abdomen, was pretty much hairless... whereas he, on the other hand,
was relatively much hairier in comparison. He had a dusting of chest hair
that was sure to thicken the older he got, as well as a slightly thicker
trail of hair that ran along his abdomen. He had especially hairy legs
which got hairier the higher it ran up his thighs. Needless to say, his
"hairy junk" was a good-natured running joke in the showers at school.
That didn't discourage him one bit. He happened to have a "big junk", and,
aside from that, every single girl whom he ever dated and slept with had
always commented on how sexy his chest hair was.
But looking himself in the mirror, and consciously comparing himself to
Paul, he couldn't help but feel completely under average. He flexed as
hard as he could, and posed as he would a bodybuilder, but his budding
musculature was... only that, budding. Especially when compared to Paul
who had seemed to developed a man's muscled body.
Shaking his head, he put on a warm thick t-shirt and a pair of old faded
blue jeans. Picking up his discarded sheets and wet clothes from the
floor, he threw them in his laundry basket before noticing Paul's wet
t-shirt from earlier still laying on the floor.
He bent down to pick it up when the unmistakable smell of Paul mixed with
the smell of rain wafted up from the t-shirt to fill his nostrils. He was
once again reminded about how masculine and admittedly sexy Paul smelt.
Not being able to help himself, he brought the t-shirt closer to his
nostrils and inhaled deeply. The effect was instantaneous -- he felt a
hardening in his jeans that grew by the second. This was not helped by
images of a shirtless Paul which began bombarding his mind.
And just as if his hand had a mind of its own, he began to slowly touch
himself. Whatever he said to try and convince himself earlier about how he
reacted to Paul was now out the window.
There was a sudden and loud knock on the door which startled him into
realizing what he was doing, so he guiltily threw the t-shirt across the
room into his laundry basket. He mentally kicked himself for getting
carried away and not hearing when the shower was turned off.
The door opened a fraction, "Can I come in?"
Quickly composing himself, and hastily adjusting his hard-on, he replied,
"Yeah man, come in."
Not trusting himself on his feet, and trying to hide his raging hard-on, he
sat down on his bed and crossed his legs as Paul swung the door open.
Best decision.
Paul looked so incredibly handsome he wasn't sure if he'd be able to remain
on his feet if he was still standing. He would have gone weak at the knees
and collapsed again.
Paul strode over with a small smile on his face showing off his very
symmetrical facial structure, as well as his even white teeth. His dark
wet hair was slicked back casually, yet it looked like he had just stepped
out from an old Hollywood movie. Liam noticed that the t-shirt he gave him
to wear was slightly too small, thus was tautly pulled over his chest
emphasizing his prominent pectorals and flat stomach. His muscular arms
were battling to free themselves too from the tight constraints of the
t-shirt, as every single movement and unintentional flex could be seen
clearly under the taut material. His heart skipped a beat when he also
noticed the band of his boxers peeking over the loose fitting track pants
he also gave Paul to wear. He realized how weirdly turned on he was
knowing that Paul was wearing his boxers... that HIS boxers, which once
cradled his manhood, was now cradling Paul's.
"Hey, where should I put these?" Paul asked holding out his wet clothes.
Not having confidence to answer, and still somewhat overcome by the feeling
of attraction that just hit him like a bus upon seeing Paul, he nodded his
head to indicate his laundry basket. Dropping his clothes in the basket,
Paul then plopped himself next to Liam.
"How're you feeling? Slightly better, maybe, being out of your wet
clothes?" Paul asked gently.
He didn't think it was possible to get any harder, but hearing Paul's deep
and genuinely caring voice made his manhood throb even more. He coughed,
"Yeah definitely, I actually feel much better. Did you shower okay?" he
asked trying his best at nonchalance while attempting to hide his hard-on
further by subtly stretching his t-shirt over his crotch area. He cringed
inside when he realized how silly his question sounded. God. Did you
shower okay? Really? He wished the floor would open up to swallow him and
his stupidity whole.
Not batting an eyelid, Paul replied, "Yes, I did, plus your hot water was
still hot even though your electricity went off. I also found this in your
bathroom cupboard for your head," Paul said pulling out a bottle of iodine
and plaster. "Allow me."
Without waiting for a reply, Paul unscrewed the bottle, and, realizing he
didn't have anything to pour it on, raised a corner of his t-shirt and
poured a few drops of the solution on it.
Heaven almighty, Liam lamented inwardly as he caught sight of Paul's abs
again.
As the t-shirt was tight, Paul stood up so as to be able to pull what
little of its corner he could to clean the cut on Liam's forehead.
This time Liam didn't object to Paul's close proximity in fear of somehow
not only having how he felt be discovered, or else have Paul notice that he
was checking him out. At the same time he tried his best to swallow the
burning feeling of wanting to act on this building desire. It was further
complicated by the fact that he hadn't had time to process this desire
properly and find out what the hell it meant, and where it came from. So
he sat there silently and soon became mesmerized as Paul's hard abs leveled
with his face.
He gulped audibly. He cast his eyes upwards as if to curse the cosmos, or
the heavens, for this nonstop onslaught of sheer sexy masculinity, a fact
that he was still trying to get over since he had truly never seen, felt or
reacted to a guy like this before.
But what a mistake that was.
He instead gazed into Paul's face that was fully concentrated on cleaning
and disinfecting the cut on his forehead. It was the small things that he
noticed that made his heart not only begin to pick up speed again, but skip
a few beats in the process.
It was the way his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed while concentrating on
tending to the cut, and how he would bite his lower lip when he thought he
pushed too hard on the wound, and even the way he'd cock his beautiful head
to the side while continuously staring intently at what he was doing. And
every so often he'd moisten his lips between biting them, leaving a gleam
of saliva on his extremely kissable lips. This only further heightened the
slow burning sensation Liam felt in his gut.
He could feel his cheeks turn crimson.
Fearing he would do something he might regret, he chose to close his eyes
and attempt to block out the man standing in front of him. But he might as
well haven't had bothered. It appeared someone had stolen a moment when he
wasn't conscious to tattoo images of Paul behind his eyelids. And feeling
somewhat unsteady with his eyes closed, he opened them again and was left
with no choice but to stare into Paul's abdomen that was covering his field
of view.
This close, he could clearly see every little detail of Paul's stomach. He
noticed the ridges that separated each abdominal muscle were much deeper
than he initially thought, so Paul's abs were much more prominent up close.
He could also almost count each hair that trailed along the lower middle of
his stomach, which vanished under the band of the boxers he was wearing.
Not being able to help himself, he looked further down, and, despite the
loose fitting track pants Paul was wearing, he could make out the generous
bulge where his manhood lay. He felt saliva start to gather at the base of
his tongue. Feeling guilty and once again worrying Paul might notice that
he was being checked out, he swallowed hard, and quickly looked away.
It was then he noticed a small birth mark the size of his thumb on Paul's
right hip that looked like a bird in flight. He almost reached out to
touch it when he was snapped out of his trance by Paul who suddenly
dropping his t-shirt.
"Almost done," Paul announced before picking up the plaster and ripping it
open to reveal the adhesive side.
So preoccupied was he studying Paul, he didn't feel any of the burning
sensation on his forehead from having someone touch and clean it. He could
now feel the full sting of the cut.
"There you go! All done!" Paul said with a flourish, running his
forefingers back and forth over the adhesive.
"Thanks..."
"No problem-o, least I could do."
Liam shyly looked at the floor unsure of what to say next. Sensing they
were heading for some awkward territory, Paul sat back down next to Liam
and started a conversation. He noticed that Liam wasn't as vocal as he was
earlier and he wondered why.
"I hope you don't mind, I used one of the new towels in the bathroom." Not
his best opener.
"Not at all, you're welcomed to whatever in the house -- we'll probably be
stuck here for at least three days until the storm passes, so feel free to
use anything you need that you can find," Liam replied somewhat shakily,
yet realizing only then the reality of his words. Three days with this guy
in his home. A lot can happen in three days.
"Thanks man. Soooo... tell me about yourself. How long have you lived
here?" Paul asked.
Liam felt slightly embarrassed. He had never in his entire life been
anywhere else outside his small town. "Pretty much all my life, can't say
I've been outta town since... well, ever. You?"
"Me? We've actually only been here for about 6 months, we moved from New
York."
Not being able to curb his excitement, Liam responded
enthusiastically. "Wow nice! It must've been awesome living in New York,
the city that never sleeps... I promised myself that if I ever got the
chance to travel, and maybe make something of myself, New York would be the
place to go. So what made you and your family decide to move here?" Liam
asked in wonderment. Why would someone move from the Big Apple out to the
middle of nowhere? Dreams came here to die.
Paul carefully considered his reply. "My parents have always wanted to
move to a small town away from the fast paced city life, maybe own and run
a farm, but they've only ever talked about it. They were too busy with
their commitments and jobs in New York so they kept putting off stuff they
wanted to do. But then my dad died... and I guess my mum realized life was
too short, and too unpredictable not to seize it and do what you wanna do
while you're still alive. So... here we are," Paul finished
matter-of-factly. Liam looked up to Paul and saw that his attempt at
indifference didn't meet his eyes.
There was a brief moment of silence before Liam asked quietly, "How did
your dad die, if you don't mind my asking?"
Paul paused for a moment, noting the sudden turn in the conversation. He
sighed and slumped his shoulders forward. "He died in a car crash. Worst
day of my life when I was told."
There was another prolonged silence until Liam finally replied. "I'm sorry
for your loss. I know it must've been difficult."
Fixating on a spot on the floor, he confided, "My dad died too, but a few
years back. He suffered from prostate cancer. Every day we watched him
slowly die. It was pretty painful."
Now it was Paul's turn to gaze at Liam, noting the pain etched on his face.
Without hesitating, he reached out and placed a hand on Liam's
shoulder. "It's a lie when they say that with time it's easier to forget,
huh? There hasn't been a day that's gone by when I don't think about my
dad."
"Definitely," was all Liam could say. He was once again struck by a
feeling of security, and he knew it was because he was in Paul's company.
For someone he still didn't really know, Paul sure knew how to put people
at ease. He looked over to Paul and smiled sadly, "Not exactly the best
conversation to be having with someone you barely know."
Paul chuckled and agreed, "Yeah, totally. Not exactly the conversation to
start having, too, to get to know someone either, eh?"
***
Liam and Paul spent the next few hours sitting in bed sharing their life
stories, oblivious to the storm that was thundering outside. The more Liam
got to hear from Paul, the easier it was for him to reciprocate and share
his own life story. Every so often there would be a deafening thunderclap
outside that would put a damper on their conversation, but so immersed were
they in each other's lives they'd only pause momentarily to ascertain
everything was okay before continuing.
Despite only knowing each other for a few brief hours, both felt a growing
connection, a sense of camaraderie and kinship. For Liam, his seeming
earlier physical attraction to Paul which he had initially tried to
dismiss, not only became entirely validated as the night wore on, but was
further reinforced.
The more he heard Paul speak, the more he felt the burning desire in the
pit of his stomach grow. He couldn't put a finger on it exactly, and he
couldn't explain it properly to himself either, but it felt
almost... right... to be at this place, with this person he was slowly
getting to know, in this exact moment in time. Like it was predestined
somehow, if any such thing exist.
He realized how silly it sounded, as well as corny. And it didn't help he
always saw himself as a self-proclaimed cynic... but sitting here with
Paul, utterly alone while a storm raged outside... It felt otherworldly,
unreal. Like he was somehow in another life. And with that, his mind
slowly took grip of the possibility that in that context, and at this
place, and at this moment in time, he could be allowed to rest his defenses
and permit himself to fully feel and explore whatever it was that he was
feeling.
As they spoke, Liam found out that Paul was the eldest of five and the only
boy. Despite his parents having jobs in New York, they were extremely well
off from investments they made during the internet boom. And if that
wasn't enough, his dad's parents owned some oil rigs outright off the coast
of Texas. This was a sensitive subject for Paul, as his father and his
parents had many disagreements, some which eventually lead to his dad
severing ties with them and leaving to make his own fortune in New York.
His father died before he was able to make amends with his parents,
something that was still raw for all involved.
Before it got back to depressing waters, Liam tactfully switched topics.
"So if you're from the city, why are you so tanned? I also noticed your
calloused hands so I assumed you worked regularly on a farm."
Paul laughed aloud. "But I do, I've been living here for six months,
remember? We bought the hundred acre farm that belonged to the old Bailey
couple out in West Cuffman, kept on their hired help, even hired a few
more. I've been working on the farm almost every day since then, learning
the ropes from the old hands who're still there, working alongside some of
the most humble men I've met... it's hard work, certainly, but very
rewarding."
Before he could stop himself, Liam blurted out, "That explains why you're
so buff."
Paul laughed again and shrugged his shoulders. "I worked out regularly
when I was back home in New York, but I only really started bulking up when
I began working full days on the farm here. And you become so involved in
the work, and at the end of each day basically crawl into your bed and die,
so you don't really notice the subtle changes happening to your body. It
just hit me one day when I was going through some old photos from New York
and saw how much bigger I've gotten." He then turned to Liam, "You're not
so bad yourself, you're pretty well built too."
It was Liam's turn to laugh and dismiss Paul. "Riiiiight, like I could be
compared to the likes of you. I've still got a pretty long way to go."
"Nah, I think you've got the perfect balance -- you're nowhere near
scrawny, but you're not overly buff either. My sister says that quite a
lot of women don't like guys who are overly muscular. Apparently a lot of
them turn out to be very self-absorbed, or maybe it's just the guys she's
been dating. But then again, that's probably her way of saying I'm
self-absorbed."
Liam's cheeks flushed. Missing the joke, all he heard was Paul referring
to him and using the word "perfect" in the same breath. "Thanks... I
think."
"Hey, so what high school did you graduate from? Wait, how old are you
again?" Liam suddenly asked Paul. "I've just started my senior year, and
I'm hoping to get a scholarship outta here for college," he continued.
"Oh, that's great, you seem like an intelligent fella, I'm sure you'll do
well. And, uh... I just turned nineteen three weeks ago." Liam saw Paul
avert his eyes. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable.
"You don't have to answer that if you don't want to," Liam quickly
interjected, fearing that he might alienate Paul somehow.
"No, not at all. I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner actually... I didn't
graduate from high school, I dropped out not long after my dad died."
"Oh."
Noticing the understanding on Liam's face, Paul was encouraged to
continue. "Not my best decision, but I was diagnosed with clinical
depression not long after he passed. In all honesty I was a bit relieved
when I was told, it really explained a lot about how I felt at the
time... I didn't have the energy nor the drive to keep going. I started
eating less then began to lose weight... Most of the time I wanted to be
alone. So one day I just... stopped attending school. And my mum didn't
ask any questions."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Liam said softly, "... if it's any consolation,
high school sucks anyway."
Paul smiled. "Don't be sorry, I needed time off to get my head on straight
again. And moving here and spending most of my days working on the farm
really helped; the physical labor, the sweat, the intensity involved goes a
long way when you're wanting to vent all your anger and frustrations out on
something. Some days I wake up feeling great and look forward to getting
back on the farm to put in a good honest day's work, but some days I don't
make it far from bed... but I force myself to get up anyway, if not for me,
then for my mom and sisters who're always worrying about me. Which isn't
fair for them."
Liam nodded sympathetically, yet unsure of what to say next. "So... no
plans to go back to school?"
"Nah, I'm comfortable with my current situation. But we'll see how things
go," Paul replied, slowly stretching while stifling a yawn. "Listen to me
ramble, I don't think I've ever spoken this much about myself to anyone
before... my sister is probably right, maybe I am self-absorbed," he said
chuckling.
Liam realized that it had been a long day, and they did spend many hours
chatting and getting to know each other. Paul must be tired.
He couldn't help but ask, "On the off chance you decide to go back to high
school, maybe you'll consider St. James High? That's where I go. We've
got a few students who've... repeated their senior year, if that helps.
Would be great to have you there," he finished lamely.
Paul's face broke into a wide grin as he laid backwards onto the bed,
gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I'll keep that in mind. Who knows?
Life... really is unpredictable."
Liam could barely contain his enthusiasm. If there was a chance, even a
little, that this guy would end up at his high school, and walk the same
halls as he would, that would surely make for an exciting senior year.
Following suit, he lay down next to Paul and shut his eyes, and both began
listening to the sounds of the storm running rampant outside -- the howling
wind, heavy rainfall pounding the roof, and the sounds of the occasional
thunderclap. Maybe because they were both tired, or maybe because both had
grown comfortable with each other in the short span of a few hours, but
neither felt awkward laying next to each other.
Liam thought about how earlier in the day he had tried his best to persuade
his mother to take his siblings and go stay with their Uncle Tom. It felt
like it was a life time ago... and here he was, a few hours later, alone in
their home with Paul, whom he'd only just met, yet felt like he had known
him for long. Thinking about Paul's comment about life and
unpredictability, Liam finally opened his eyes and replied, "Yes... Yes, it
is."
But Paul didn't hear him. In a matter of a few short minutes, he had
managed to drift off into a deep slumber. Liam lay awake for a while
still, soaking up the exhilarating feeling of lying next to this person.
He turned to Paul and took in each little detail. And there he lay for the
next few hours, studying the face of this stud, while belatedly processing
the confusing feelings he had been having.
Just before he fell asleep himself, he finally managed to accept
that... putting aside the questions of whether he was gay or not, or the
fact that he'd only ever had feelings and experiences with women prior to
that day... the hard truth was, in the course of less than a day, he had
fallen undeniably, totally and utterly in love with the person laying next
to him. The idea was as much confusing as it was overwhelming.
***
Thanks again to those who emailed me, it really means a lot to hear your
feedback as it encourages me to put in a solid effort writing the next few
chapters. So please, if you like this story so far, drop me an email to
let me know your thoughts. In fact, if you have anything to say at all
about Liam and Paul's story, let me know on boys2menstory@hotmail.com! J
Very much looking forward to hearing from you.